Stroke of Luck
by The Sand Assassin
Summary: For Poirot cafe Themed Writing Competition #20: Luck. Hakuba Saguru doesn't believe in luck. A meeting at a banquet might have him reconsider. Throw in a little bit of mischief and Sherlock Holmes, and you got yourself a fic. One-shot.


For Poirot cafe's themed writing contest #20: luck. Unfortunately I was the only one who submitted a work. So I guess I won by default? xD

Special thanks to the amazing Taliya for Beta-ing for me. Without her, this work would have been horrible. Also thank you for coming up with a suitable title.

The cover art is by Ichtyophobia, and rewarded to me as a particiant badge. It's amazing!

...

'Luck' is a superstition. It has nothing to do with a favour from some deity. The psychologist Fritz Heider introduced a theory in 1958 that demarked a distinction between internal and external attributions to events, that one may attribute the outcome of an event either to themselves or to external factors. Such as luck. Simply put, some people put more faith in luck than others. It is nothing more than a mental state on how you choose to perceive the world. Some students would attribute luck to the reason they passed an exam, while others acknowledge only their own abilities as the sole cause.

Bernard Weiner further developed the concept of luck in 1986 and defined luck as external, unstable, and having uncontrollable causes. Meeting the direction of a company seeking someone with your profile at a dinner and getting the job of your dreams could be defines as a 'lucky event'. However, you would not have this chance of meeting if you had not put yourself out there and gone to such an event with the possibility of meeting someone important. In that regard, luck can be constructed as a calculation of odds to see what can be turned in your favour. In addition to being open and interactive, being able to detect opportunities brings an additional competitive edge. Thus, one can say that being 'lucky' is determined merely by your state of mind and the way you engage with the world.

This, however, did not explain the improbable situation occurring in front of Hakuba Saguru's very eyes. Thrice in a row now, a young teenage girl had won the first price in three separate lotteries. There were perhaps two-hundred fifty participants in this event. The Suzuki family was holding a charity banquet this evening, and had decided to hold five different lotteries as one means of entertainment for the guests. Saguru himself had received a personal invitation from the young Suzuki Sonoko on the last KID heist, because, and he quoted. 'We need some more eye-candy!' He might have been more flattered if the young heiress had not acquired some sort of cannon-gun to send the same invitation at an escaping KID. And that was how he found himself here this evening wearing and expensive tailored suit and sipping on some bubbling grape juice. He was still mentally rolling his eyes at the stern talking he had received from his caretaker, recalling how she had lectured him to be on his best behaviour so that he would not embarrass his father.

Saguru eyed the girl sitting next to Suzuki Sonoko. He could not see her well from his current locale, as he had been seated at a different table at his request. Originally, he had been placed at the young heiress' table, but earlier that evening, the eccentric brunette had _groped_ him. He shivered slightly from the unpleasant memory. It was not situation he fancied going through twice.

Mouri Ran was an exceptional individual. She was a devoted and kind-hearted woman. Not to mention fierce. He had met her on several previous occasions, usually with Edogawa Conan close by, who was another remarkable person in Saguru's book. The young boy always seemed to be the brightest individual in any room he occupied. It was a heavy blow to Saguru's pride to admit it, but the boy would one day grow to outwit even him (a dark voice in the back of his mind whispered that the child already did, but he staunchly repressed the very thought). That anyone could be _that_ smart at the age of six seemed… unreal.

Saguru had noticed with a slight disappointment that Edogawa Conan was absent for the evening. He had looked forward to engaging the young prodigy in a conversation regarding the new, highly improper series of Sherlock Holmes in a steampunk arc. Sonoko sat next to her best friend, chattering away. The seat on the other side of Mouri Ran remained unoccupied.

His mind turned back towards the matter at hand. It was, of course highly impossible to calculate your chances at winning in one lottery, considering you were only given one ticket for each of the five lotteries. But winning three – the probability was entirely too small to be feasible. Unless she had somehow acquired the numbers beforehand and switched the tickets with someone else without anyone knowing, her good fortune was simply _uncanny_. He doubted the idea of Ran dreaming up – much less committing such a crime – as she did not seem like the type of person to do such a thing.

He considered the numbers. There was a 1 in 250 chance to win one pot, 1 in 750 to win three. That meant there was a 0.4% chance to win one, 0.13% to win three, and if you added the obscure probability to consecutively win three in a row like she had, the numbers became even smaller. The chances were so diminutive, it gave him a headache thinking about it. But then how, if one eliminated the possibility of divine intervention, was Mouri Ran's exceptional good fortune conceivable?

If he was to consider his earlier explanation on the occurrence of the mental state called 'luck', then neither of the aforementioned psychologists could shed any light on his current problem. People with luck would, in theory, be more open to the idea of buying lottery tickets – if they did not gamble, then they would not have a chance to win. Of course, most people possessed multitudes of methods to boost their advantages. In general, people who considered themselves unlucky would not invest in something like a lottery if they did not believe in their chances to win anything. Either someone had figured how to cheat in this instance, or Mouri Ran had been exceptionally fortunate in this situation (he refused to call it 'luck').

He raked a hand through his usually, neat blond hair before burying his face in both hands. He groaned in frustration.

"You alright?"

"No," he answered without looking up. "The probabilities of this evening's lottery results thus far are so miniscule that the entire world must have succumbed to chaos at some point. If – and please excuse my unoriginality – monkeys start to fly at any given moment from here on out, I wouldn't be remotely surprised."

This earned him an amused chuckle.

"Believe me, the same thought has occurred to me many times with regards to Ran. Her luck can only be compared to the possibility of something supernatural at bay." The stranger spoke the girl's name with great fondness in his voice.

Saguru grunted in disagreement. "There is no such thing as luck." He glanced up at his conversational partner and he was struck by the familiarity of his face. Before it clicked in his head, he had opened his mouth to say 'Kuroba?' He managed to stifle the impulse and closed his mouth with an audible click before the embarrassing question could slip past his lips.

There was a striking likeness in this stranger to his fellow schoolmate Kuroba Kaito – however, there were noticeable differences. At a glance, he looked be 174 cm tall (unfortunately a train also shared by Kuroba, it did not help his cause so he ignored it). His hair was a shade darker than Kuroba's, tamed but with a cowlick in front and a rather distinctive tuft in the back. It gave him a far more proper and meticulous look than Kuroba could ever pull off with the bird's nest he liked to call his hair. The stranger's eyes were a cerulean blue, as opposed to Kuroba's violet.

"True enough. However, 'When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth'," his companion quoted in fluent English.

Saguru's lips twitched slightly. "Most would take the quote from _The Sign of Four."_

The cerulean eyes glowed slightly in challenge. "The usage in _The Sign of Four_ is said in enquiry. I was not asking you a question, simply stating a fact."

Saguru straightened in his chair. _How intriguing. A fellow Sherlockian?_ Maybe this evening would not be as boring as he had originally thought. He swept an open hand in the direction of the adjacent empty chair, extending a wordless invitation. The teen smirked in respond and pulled out the chair before sitting down.

"However," Saguru continued, and quoted dutifully. "'Luck is an offensive, abhorrent concept. The idea that there is a force in the universe tilting events in your favour or against it is ridiculous. Idiots rely on luck.'"

 _Like a certain classmate of mine_. His new acquaintance paused. Eyes sparkled slightly as they narrowed in calculation. Saguru felt his breath hitch slightly. There was something beyond simple intelligence behind those cerulean eyes. There was something oddly familiar with it.

The teen detective had met few who shared such a look. They all seemed to be exceptional individuals. In Japan alone, he had met Hattori Heiji, Edogawa Conan, Sera Masumi and Kuroba Kaito with a similar expression. What were the chances that another teenage genius would walk by his table and chat? Except for the latter, they were all brilliant detectives. Could his new acquaintance be another? He considered the numbers. Yet he disregarded the very thought a second later. There were too few variables to correctly calculate the probability. He regarded his companion. There was something exceedingly familiar with him – something that niggled in the back of his mind.

"I'm not certain I know where that is from," his companion confessed a moment later with a blush adorning his cheeks and a frown on his lips.

Saguru waved a hand in slightly in embarrassment. "Apologies, I shouldn't have assumed you were acquainted with screen adaptions."

Confusion cleared from the cerulean eyes and morphed into curiosity. "Where precisely is it from?"

Saguru glanced at him. All stiffness drained out of his shoulders. He had met many a Sherlockian who hated anything to do with adaptions from the original books. His companion however, did not seem to be of the sort. The half-Brit was relieved. This would make the conversation far livelier.

"Elementary, season 1, episode 5, 'Lesser Evils', 14 minutes and 41 seconds in."

His conversational partner's eyes sparkled in amusement. "I'll definitely look into it when I have time."

Saguru allowed a small smile to adorn his lips. Any reply from his side was cut short as a body evaded his vision, a rather upset woman at that. Mouri Ran put her hands on her hips as she glowered at his companion. The young man's eyes widened slightly in what could only be surprise as he awkwardly corrected his tie.

"Ran," he started, only to be interrupted.

"Where have you been? We've been waiting for _hours_. You're finally back in town, and you set me up. _Again!_ "

Saguru was glad he was not in his fellow Sherlockian's shoes. Ran rather resembled Aoko at this moment. Had she been holding a mop they could have been twins.

His companion swallowed nervously as he held up his hands to placate the enraged woman. He stood slowly, so as to not make any sudden moves. "I'm terribly sorry, Ran. But there was a murder and –"

The half-Brit blinked slightly as he regarded him. Had he been correct in his assumptions in thinking he was another teen detective? That something niggled in his mind again. _Why_ was he so familiar? Had he seen him in the papers somewhere? His words seemed to calm Ran as she gained a worried look over her face. She wrapped an arm around his as she nodded to his words. The teen froze slightly as a blush adorned his face. Saguru twitched a lip slightly. _Mouri-chan's boyfriend?_

Ran finally noticed they were not alone. She widened her eyes slightly in surprise before her cheeks mirrored her friend's.

"Hakuba-san. I didn't see you there _."_ Her blush deepened as she glanced at the dark haired youth. "Did I interrupt something important?"

Saguru's ex-companion regarded her with calculating eyes, before a line of annoyance appeared on his forehead.

"In fact, you did. I've _finally_ met someone who's interest in Sherlock Holmes rivals my own. Finally, someone who doesn't get _bored_ of this amazingly interesting conversational topic."

Ran blinked in surprise before her eyes narrowed. "It's not my fault it's _all_ you talk about. Some new refreshing topics would be welcomed. There is only so many times I can listen to you dissect _The Signs of Four_ before I got bored. I think I can recite it word for word by now."

Saguru listen to them banter back and forward in amusement and he felt a tingle of jealousy. He wished he could have the same easy-going relationship with someone. The two seemed to complement each other perfectly. Ran could definitely hold his leash and make sure the dark-haired teen behaved. His thoughts were cut short as the conversation died out as the couple regarded him.

"I don't think we introduced ourselves." His fellow Sherlockian held out a hand.

Saguru blinked in confusion. _Oh dear_. Had he forgotten common curtesy? Baaya would definitely yank his chain if she ever found out he had been discourteous. He stood and reached out his hand. They shook.

"Apologies for my rudeness. I'm Hakuba Saguru."

"Kudou Shinichi."

Saguru froze in surprise. Eyes widened as he regarded the teen. _The_ Kudou Shinichi? The brilliant teenage detective that had mysteriously disappeared months ago? What was he doing _here?_ The chances of encountering him here were even smaller than winning the lotteries three times in a row. There had been rumours circling around that he had died during an investigation. It was something Saguru had tried personally to verify their veracity months ago. He had heard many talk about the genius in regarding how he deduced a crime. Even the Osakan detective, Hattori Heiji, spoke highly of the man. The probability that they would meet here by chance was so miniscule that Saguru did not even dare consider the numbers.

"Not to pressure you or anything, but would you be so kind as to let go of my hand?"

The half-Brit blinked out of his stupor. He glanced at their hands. He had clenched his fingers around Kudou's like Watson's talons around a mouse. He let go with an embarrassed cough.

"I'm sorry. Seems like all I have been doing today is apologising. You were the last person I'd thought I'd ever meet this evening, Kudou-san."

A predatory grin grew on the teen detective's lips. A shiver ran through Saguru. It was much too similar to the ones Kuroba would make.

"Must be serendipity."

Saguru frowned as he opened his mouth to disagree.

"And now for the winner of the next lottery. This romantic cruise for two for a month. The winning number is 1214."

The half-Brit glanced down on his slip of paper. A squeal made him look up as Ran cheered in triumph.

"That's my number!"

She let go of Kudou, waving an arm to indicate she had the winning number. A collective groan swelled in the room, as she had won for the _fourth_ time in a row.

The two detective gawked as they watched her retreating form. Saguru let his mouth shut with an audible 'click'. Maybe just this once, he might agree on the existence of luck. Saguru glanced at Kudou as they shared a look. A second later, their lips twitched before laughter escaped them at the absolute absurdity of the situation.


End file.
